


With This Ring

by Patolozka



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 10k fic, 6000 years of marriage, Aziraphale's POV - sort of, Different Eras, F/M, Fluff, Have I mentioned fluff?, Heaven and Hell, Historic references, Humor, I was told it's sweet, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Secret Relationship, head offices are oblivious, ineffable weddings, loving relationship, there are other characters but mostly just Aziraphale and Crowley, three parts, throught history, wedding customs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-20 13:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patolozka/pseuds/Patolozka
Summary: What if the Ineffable Husbands were head over heels at the first sight and eloped right away just to bind oneself to the other. They secretly re-marry throughout history, enjoying every new custom humans come up with every time one of them discorporates, adopts a new name or loses a ring.





	1. PART I

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this ask on Darcy’s GO blog, and I couldn’t resist. I wanted to do a lot of research as I should but then… I started to write and I just couldn’t stop myself. I’m not a historian. I’ve got just a common knowledge about historic facts so I tried to google a lot but still… Well I can only hope it was enough.  
I would like to thank ira-dunfort for the lovely prompt (was it a prompt? I don’t really know. But it doesn’t matter much, just thanks for the idea)  
And many thanks to nieded for all the patience with me and much needed encouragement. This story was beta-read by nieded.  
Source of the prompt: https://forineffablereasons.tumblr.com/post/187620561063/so-ive-been-to-a-queer-wedding-last-tuesday-and  
And many thanks to DaveChicken for additional correction and finding the rest of typos etc. Thank you!

**4004 B.C., Heaven**

The world was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C. at exactly 9:15 A.M. We know it now. God was quite fresh and everything was new at that time. There were the early days and you might say ‘Love was in the air’ and you would be right. Love was really in the air also in the Earth, in the water and later in all the flowers and animals. Love was in angels who helped guard it and love was God…

Well… you could say love was so ordinary in that newly created world that there was no need to speak so widely about it.

But then… there was also a different kind of love.

The story about that kind of love began exactly two weeks later in Heaven’s first Action Team Building.

“Everybody, cheer up! We are the creators of the world, are we not?” Gabriel exclaimed with his radiant smile and then clapped with his hands. “Now quickly pair up! Hush, hush!”

Aziraphale didn’t feel quite right. Everybody was there, all God's angels, field, and office workers, bosses and their inferiors. Well, not everyone. God herself was visibly absent but otherwise everybody was there and the headquarters felt quite overcrowded.

He missed his quiet corner, his small place with his own chair and table just for him, but Gabriel was really persistent and there was no chance to avoid the first meeting when your boss was like that so…

He sighed and looked around. The possibility that he would find someone to pair with was small. Everyone seemed to already have a friend by their side. Raphael and Uriel were both smiling and talking vividly, Michael was with Sabiel and look - over there Haniel was paired with Chadros from Bariel’s second department. Really, two weeks at work and Aziraphale still couldn’t find a closer friend?

He started to feel quite desperate (well, at that time angels could be only a little unhappy, not desperate, so let’s say he was a little unhappy about this situation) but then he heard his name called.

It was Gabriel.

“Aziraphale! Aziraphale, over there!”

He was waving at him and there was a young angel standing by his side who was looking quite unhappy himself.

“Uhm,” Aziraphale said, “yes?”

“Aziraphale, my good fellow, Nelchael here needs a companion and you seem to be looking for someone. So you are our new team then!” His smile flashed with a white of his teeth and then Gabriel was gone.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Nelchael, right?”

The second angel, tall with long red hair and amber eyes, nodded. “You are working for Gabriel?”

“Well… yes. I am. I… um… I am in an office. Making records and that kind of… stuff.”

“Is it interesting?”

“Well… yes!” Aziraphale smiled brightly. “It is, in fact. When you are putting words together and making records you are actually building a story. And sometimes you can even make a whole new story. It’s like… like…”

“Creating new world,” the red haired angel added.

“Yes!” Aziraphale agreed happily. “So you are too? Creating, I mean.”

“I am,” Nelchael said proudly and added a tiny smile of his own.

“And is it… you know.... as interesting is it seems?”

“Sometime it is. Sometimes it is not. But most of the time it is.”

“Hmmm…” Aziraphale said and looked dreamily around as if he could see it in front of his eyes.

“Tell me again, what are we doing here?” asked Nelchael after a while.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, “it should be a game. A… meeting game or something.”

“But you don’t approve of it.”

“I… er… well… you know I…”

“Aziraphale…” Nelchael said with a twinkle in his amber eyes. “Do I look like I’m enjoying myself?”

“Well... I… maybe _now_?”

Nelchael hmmed and then smirked. “Maybe.”

And that was it, you know… quite simple, two beings paired by chance (or God’s will) and three months’ time spent together. Because at the end of that first celestial quarter there was a war coming. The first war in Heaven. The war which divided all angels into two unforgiving parts.

“Aziraphale, I need to go,” Nelchael said and he turned to leave.

“One more second, please. I just… I just…” Aziraphale bowed his head to look at his fidgeting fingers. “Please…” he whispered desperately.

Nelchael sighed and rubbed his face. He was so tired, so conflicted, so… Still he turned to face him one more time. “Aziraphale…”

Aziraphale looked up and his blue eyes were shining with tears. “Please, don’t leave. Please.”

Nelchael shook his head. His eyes were sad. “I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes in pain but then steeled himself and opened them again. “Could I have a lock of your hair?”

“What?”

“Your hair,” Aziraphale repeated and gestured towards his beautiful red curls.

“I…” Nelchael visibly gulped but then nodded curtly. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

That day two angels exchanged freely given gifts, one red lock of hair for a golden one. And while there were tears on Aziraphale face he spoke his first words of love with a smile on his lips and shine in his eyes.

“Whatever happens, my dear, you will forever stay in my heart...”

Nelchael never forgot.

**4003 B. C., Eden**

It was a nice day. Well, all days were nice. Or should be. Apple tree duty was a little boring but at least Aziraphale was in the fresh air and far away from head office where it was not so nice since the… you know… since the Fall of his brothers and sisters. Since the war. Since… well… suffice to say the guard duty was a welcoming change in his life. There were no Gabriel, no Michael, no others for so many months, only the two humans who were… well… quite smitten with each other. It was comforting to watch them. It was as if he was living their lives a little too.

And then, one day, everything changed.

"That one went down like a lead balloon."

“I’m sorry, wha-?”

"I said, that one went down like a lead balloon," repeated the demon - Crawly - who appeared just a second ago by his side and then winked.

“I… yes, you could say so…” answered Aziraphale and looked onto the horizon where heavy clouds were starting to gather.

“Aziraphale…”

“Nel-my dear, please, don’t,” Aziraphale shook his head and closed his eyes for a second.

The demon stayed silent, but then made one more step closer and said: “_You will forever stay in my heart_. Is it still true?”

Aziraphale turned his head to him and fixed him with his blue eyes. He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” 

Crawly gave him a sad smile. “Do you still consider me as a friend?”

“Yes.”

Now they stood face to face.

“Do you still want me...?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still…”

“Oh, Crawly, please!” exclaimed Aziraphale and moved his hands into the air between them in frustration.

“Bond with me,” said the demon simply.

Aziraphale blinked. “Again?”

“Yes! After all, I have a new form now.”

“I… I don’t have anything to exchange. I already gave my sword away,” he joked nervously, and then set his eyes on the former angel in front of him again.

“You could kiss me,” whispered Crawly.

“I…” Aziraphale hesitated but then… it was quite simple for him, really, so he answered: “Yes.”

When the rain started to fall on them and the two humans ran through the arid desert for their lives, there on the Eden wall happened a new exchange. A new promise. A new bond to renew the old one.

Aziraphale looked into the warm serpent’s eyes that used to be so different yet similar at the same time and stood on his tiptoes. Crawly bent down to cover his mouth with his.

And it was good. It was nice. It was like being wrapped in a silky blanket on a warm day. Tender and sweet and only a little bitter. An angel and a demon. Two souls as one. Two souls in the divided world.

Aziraphale was shielding them from rain with his white wings, and while the raindrops grew heavier and heavier, he savoured happily his first marriage kiss.

**2350 B.C., Mesopotamia**

When Aziraphale was assigned to Earth, he had quite a lot of time for studying humans - their customs, their developing culture, their attempts of building family and variations of relationships.

At first it seemed very simple. They just wanted to be safe. They gathered into groups and chose the strongest one to be their leader. They were hunters and gatherers. They needed to eat, they needed to have a place to sleep, and they needed to produce enough children to survive. They even tried to capture themselves in pictograms on cave walls. Aziraphale was mesmerised by the pictures of animals and people portrayed on them. He never forgot Adam and Eve, the first two people, and now he was like a guardian of their children.

Around five hundred years after the world creation, everything started to really become interesting. The cuneiform was invented then. Aziraphale was one of the first scribes in Heaven. He was the one who gathered stories. He was the one who dreamed about things, and now humans started to do the same.

The world was still new, and in his headquarters they were very insistent about the amount of work that needed to be done, so there was not enough time to meet with Crawly, nearly not enough time to spot a hair of him. Still… with them both being on Earth it was kind of a comfort to know he was somewhere there as well… Maybe in the close settlement over hill. Maybe even in the same slowly developing town.

After more than one thousand and five hundred years humans were quite advanced. They had towns, they formed families and alliances, they had a usable writing form. They started to make notes, signs and then… even contracts.

It was in Akkad when Aziraphale finished a contract of his own and smiled softly on the clay with pressed marks, the words carefully formulated into sentences. _Yes._

“Angel.”

“My dear,” breathed Aziraphale. He turned and Crawly was there. He was really there… and he looked like a sunbeam in his eyes despite his dark clothes. In his plain black tunic, with his red hair wildly around his head, there was the halo effect he knew there shouldn't be. But still it was there just for him.

“I…” started Aziraphale but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. So many years. So many years of yearning, so many years of longing. Was it the same for him? Or was he the only one? Could it…?

“Yes, angel?” asked Crawly. And it was there, the warmth in his snake eyes, the little smile on his lips. How would they taste after all those years?

“Thank you for coming, my dear…” said Aziraphale and smiled at him.

They stared at each other and the longing was almost unbearable.

“What is it, angel?”

“I… er…I... I missed you,” he breathed finally. “So very much.”

“I see.”

“...You?”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale lowered his eyes and breathed out. He knew, didn’t he? He knew it. It was somewhere in his heart all the time. They missed each other so very much.

He lifted his head again and made eye contact with him. “Marry me.”

The demon grinned. “Again, angel?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Aziraphale gulped. “There is a new custom on the Earth. A marriage contract. And I was wondering if you…”

“Yes.”

_Contract for Marriage, 2334 B.C._

_This marriage was proposed by Aziraphale, first of his name, to Crawly the Serpent in Akkad in the first year of the reign of Sargon._

_I spoke to my Father and he didn’t answer my prayers. I spoke to my heart and it said ‘yes’._

_I am one of the nobles. I have brothers and sisters between angels. I was your kin. Now I wish to be your equal. Accept me and my love shall fill your lap. Like the fruit of a garden, I will give you everything what is mine. My joy will be yours; your burden will be mine._

_I can’t give you freedom of your soul but what I can I will freely give. Speak ‘yes’ and you will be mine. Speak ‘yes’ and I will be yours._

_Signed and witnessed_

**1250 B.C., China**

The Great Flood took everything, and for a few centuries Aziraphale left to China. He stayed in the Yellow River Valley where Yin Dynasty ruled, later known as the cradle of Chinese civilization. He had a good life there. Productive too.

In 1256 B.C. Crawly was discorporated. Aziraphale didn’t know where and how but he felt it regardless. It was like a pang right around his heart that eased only after some time. And as he knew Hell’s bureaucracy was hellish, he stayed where he was and waited for the right time to come.

“I’m sorry, what is this place again?” Aziraphale asked politely. “There was a note at my place that I should come here.”

“My name is Wen. I am a marriage broker. And you are here to find a proper wife, are you not?”

“Oh I don’t think I need….”

“But you do!” the old woman insisted, and her eyes shone with the strange light of a viper prepared to bite. “A bachelor as you with good status and fortune. Never in your life did you imagine how nice could it be with a wife of your own?”

“Um…”

“So tell me, Fale Azira. What should she be like? What do you like in women?”

“Um… I… she needs to be... _brilliant_.”

The old woman frowned. “Brilliant you said?”

“Yes, yes, she needs to be brilliant. And cunning too. And she needs to be able to cope with every problem.”

“Uh…”

“And a smile. She needs to have a smile that leaves you with weak knees, a smile like the sun that could burn you by its intensity but never will. She needs to be creative and charming. She should have imagination. She needs to ask challenging questions…”

“Challenging…”

“Yes. It doesn’t matter if she is small or tall, if her hair is long or short, she just needs to know me through and through. That’s kind of wife I’m looking for.”

“Um… I’ll need to look into my records… oh… now when I’m thinking about it I… may have a perfect match for you. Good family too, very old. You might have heard about them - family Li.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. I can arrange an exchange of offers, if you like. Unfortunately, her family was killed so she is under my wings. Right now she’s living here,” she finished the thought but Aziraphale wasn’t listening to her anymore. His eyes were fixed on a woman that appeared at the door.

She was tall, she was thin, her hips were slightly moving from side to side. She had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and she wore a black Hanfu with red snakes on the sleeves.

“I accept,” he said and meant it.

“Um. Good. Now we only need to discuss the proposal and of course the birthdates need to be done and…”

Aziraphale couldn’t take his eyes off Crawly that time and with their quite fast wedding he even didn’t have to.

**487 B.C., Greece**

In 487 B.C. you could find Aziraphale in Syracuse. Corax was the father of rhetoric but against a certain angel with a memory of thousands of years he wouldn’t stand a chance. They were competing in the art of speech. It was a heated discussion about the taste of ambrosia. What is important for us to know is that they were competing for a bride as was the custom in Ancient Greece.

And there she stood in her long peplos dress, veiled and unknown, for everybody to watch yet still be hidden for all eyes, calmly waiting for the winner to take her as a prize.

And of course we knew who the winner was.

A few hours passed before Aziraphale removed the veil from Crawly’s face. He smiled then and said: “You look beautiful, my love. But really - what was that for? Now I have to marry you again.”

“I need a ring, angel,” Crawly answered with such an intense stare that Aziraphale had to chuckle.

“Is that so?” he asked teasingly. “Now when you mentioned it I think that after thirty-five centuries you really deserve one, my dear… Shall we then?”

**33 A.D., Jerusalem**

“Aziraphale!”

“Ga-briel, what a pleasure to meet you. Wha-what brings you here?” he asked nervously.

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale…” Gabriel told him amicably. “Been busy all those years I’ve seen. You are our great earthy liaison. I’ve been counting on you in Headquarters all this time.”

“Thank you,” answered Aziraphale and tried to offer him a pleased smile. He failed.

“But as all of us know the Almighty has a plan.”

“A… plan?”

“Of course,” Gabriel beamed. “And everyone of us has an unsubstitutable role in it. And we all want the Almighty’s plan to succeed, am I right?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale assured him as best as he could.

“So you’ll understand your assignment here has to end.”

“Has to? You mean that Yeshua, he…”

“He needs to return to us. Yes.”

“But he is the son of God!” Aziraphale exclaimed before he caught himself.

“Yes,” Gabriel explained patiently, “that’s why he needs to return to the Kingdom of Heaven to his rightful place.”

“But…that means that his life on Earth...” Aziraphale tried one last time.

“Will end. Yes, it’s a pity. I’ve heard he was quite good with people, but everything has its end, don’t you agree, my friend?” said Gabriel and looked at him with his shining smile.

“Yes. Of course, Gabriel. I understand.”

But Aziraphale didn’t understand. He had watched this honest young man over the past few years. He saw him with people, he saw him doing ordinary things and saw him doing miracles. He witnessed how good he was for humanity. And now.... everything just had to end?

That day on the hill in Golgoth something precious broke in Aziraphale, one of his connections with Heaven. And when Crawly showed himself, standing so close to him, Aziraphale thought ‘just damn it all’ before he took his slender hand in his and miracled them out.

They found themselves close to Rome or somewhere - Aziraphale really didn’t give a shit about their exact destination because in the next second he took the demon in his arms and kissed him.

“Angel… angel… not that I’m complaining here but what exactly are you doing?”

“I’m kidnapping my bride,” Aziraphale growled into his throat and traced his way adamantly down with more and more kisses.

“Are you… now?”

“Crawly, please, I…”

“It’s Crowley. I changed it. Didn’t think it was me anymore.”

Aziraphale lifted his head and looked the demon in the eyes. There he was. The only one who could understand. The only one who…

“Don’t you… like it?” the demon asked and licked his lips as if he was unsure of the answer.

“I like it,” answered Aziraphale. “I like it very much. And it’s another reason for marrying you.”

“Again.”

“Yes, again. But tomorrow. We can do it properly tomorrow. Right now, now I need…”

“Yes, angel, I know what you need…” Crowley whispered and then he kissed him again.

And then again and again. They kissed and kissed and did some other things, things that left them in the knot of limbs and with their huge wings wide spread under that starry sky.

And for many reasons this moment seemed as if it was their first wedding night.

THE END OF PART I


	2. PART II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ineffable marriages from the 1st century A.D. to eighteen-hundreds A.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite part. There are funny parts, there are heartbreaking parts. Hope you'll like them.  
Thank you, nieded, again for making this better then I intended.

**PART II**

**313 A.D., Mediolanum**

“I don’t think this is good enough reason for a new proposal…”

“Really, my dear? We should celebrate, shouldn’t we?”

“Maybe you, but for me? Why should I celebrate something good for those from Above?” They sat in a pub hiding in a quiet corner during one of their clandestine meetings. The Roman Empire had just decreed religious tolerance for all Christians, a great boon for Aziraphale and the side of the angels.

“Well, for one thing, not everyone in the Roman Empire is Christian or will be pleased that there is a new legal god. Secondly, every change causes chaos, and I would think it’s a good thing for Below. You could even get a commendation for it. And thirdly, I have heard from a good source that neither Emperor Constantine nor his colleague Licinius are Christians themselves…”

“How is it you are so good at this?”

“At what, my dear?” Aziraphale asked as he sipped from his wine. He saluted humans and their wine. It was really good.

“In comforting me, angel. You shouldn’t have to,” Crowley answered in strange low voice.

“Of course I should. You are my--you are mine. We share things. The good, the bad, the…”

“Angel, shut up and kiss me already. I’m saying yes.”

“Well, in that case… Cheers!” They clinked their cups. Then Aziraphale remarked “Which color will be favoured for weddings? What do you think? Blue?”

“Angel, I never wore colours and never will!”

“Last time you wore yellow, and you were amazing.”

“Last time was… It was… It was entirely your fault. I don’t even have long hair now!”

“Of course, my dear. Anything you say.”

“One more word, angel, and I swear you will regret this marriage, Christian or not.”

“Oh, but the blue colour--?”

“Angel!”

“Don’t worry, my dear. The kiss, you said? I’m ready now.”

“Hmf.”

**537 A.D., Wessex**

“So we just cancel each other out. The Black Knight and the… White Knight, sort of…”

They stood on a hill in the middle of nowhere wearing their heavy armour, trying to put together a normal conversation.

“You could put it like that,” Aziraphale answered.

“What a shame. Be easier if we stay home or at least cooperate,” muttered Crowley.

“What? No! We can’t,” Aziraphale exclaimed, panicked. “You know what our head offices would think about such a--”

“I lost my ring,” Crowley said suddenly, and it was such a change of subject that Aziraphale didn’t quite catch what he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I looked everywhere, ok? I turned every stone, every stick. This place is a nightmare. Damn moorland everywhere! And the mist, did you notice the mist?” He was babbling and looked so upset. Aziraphale had never seen him like that.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, my dear,” he repeated quietly. “I will find a way to give you a new one.”

There was hope, so much hope in the beloved eyes that Aziraphale wanted nothing less than to kiss him right on the spot and marry him again.

“Soon?” Crowley asked in a calmer voice.

“Soon enough,” he promised.

And so it happened that the next month there was a wedding of Geraint, a knight of the Round Table, with beautiful Enid. And while everyone present on Tintagel Castle concentrated on the happy couple along with King Arthur and his company, a second wedding took place at the same time, in the same place in private.

“Just, you know, do try not to lose this one.”

“I will never hear the end of it, will I?”

“Well, my dear, it’s ineffa--mmmm.... yes, this is better. Much better.”

“Thank you, angel.”

**788 A.D., Byzantine Empire**

“So, are you coming?”

“What? Where?”

Aziraphale hadn’t been in Constantinople for more than two hours before he spotted Crowley in the crowd. From that moment they were in each other’s company - talking, drinking, eating, mostly staring on Aziraphale’s part. Crowley covered his eyes with glasses which was new and confusing. He had said something about how the snake thing frightened humans now, interfering with his work. It was such a shame, really. He shouldn’t hide his beautiful eyes like that.

“The imperial bride show of course. I was talking about it about an hour ago. They’re going to choose a wife for Constantine VI. Where have you been?”

_With you, I was with you…_ Aziraphale thought but smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, my dear. I might be a little distracted.”

“Hmm… So, are you coming or not? Don’t tell me you’re not interested in witnessing the choosing of the most beautiful maiden in the country for yourself?”

Aziraphale shook his head, and Crowley tilted his head studying him intensely. He had short hair now, a hairstyle quite similar to the one in Rome, and he wore a black toga with red embroidery. He looked very dashing even with his glasses on. But it was old news to Aziraphale. Crowley was always the most beautiful being around them. And the most precious. 

“Why not? You’re not curious? Are you not interested in betting on who will win? Don’t you want to see…?”

“My dear, what could I want more when I already have you?” He kissed Crowley’s shining wedding ring.

Crowley gulped, caught in surprise. Then he smiled. “Then you shall have me.” 

**877 A.D., Scandinavia**

Their wedding in Northern Europe was a beautiful affair, a new custom and tradition which Aziraphale had wanted to explore and Crowley indulged. It was on a Friday, as weddings for Vikings took place only on Frigga’s days. Crowley arrived on the shore in a longboat wearing a dark red cloak. His hair was long again, his curls carefully twisted into ornaments. He wore a bridal crown made from an apple branch, an ineffable joke between them. He even put away his glasses for the ceremony.

They had been separated the day before the wedding for a cleansing ritual, finished by jumping into the icy waters. It wasn’t a tradition they enjoyed, but it was worth it. Everything they did together was worth it. 

They hadn’t needed to marry again, but after living separate lives for a few centuries, they thought a few days together wouldn’t do any harm. What would headquarters know, really, if they hadn’t noticed this far? But then Aziraphale had been accidentally discorporated at the Battle of Brissarthe in 866, and they couldn’t stand it any longer. It had taken them eleven years to be together again.

The day before the wedding, Aziraphale’s task had been different as a groom. He was required to break into the grave of an ancestor and retrieve a sword. It was not as simple as it first seemed, but he managed it regardless. And so he stood armed with his borrowed sword for the day and waited for his bride to be at his side.

They exchanged promises, the sacrifice was made and they prepared the feast overflowing with ale. When they drank from their loving-cup Aziraphale felt as content as he could be.

“Angel, you’re glowing,” whispered Crowley into his ear. “Dull it a little.”

“Am I? I’m sorry. Am I hurting you?”

“No, it's alright. You seem happy.”

“ I am.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Very much.”

**933 A.D., Japan **

“Have you ever thought about the early days, my dear?”

They lay together on a simple futon under the duvet, idly tracing each other’s naked skin. They had been wed in one of the samurai villages the night before, a ceremony and a small party held in their names. Marriages were not common in Japan these days except in the rising samurai class. They were an interesting people, these warriors, and wouldn’t be forgotten in human history. Aziraphale didn’t wish to miss the new writing system, kana, which was how he ended up in Japan to begin with, and it was his idea to partake in their marriage traditions.

The question took Crowley by surprise but he answered regardless. “All the time, angel.”

“Oh? You must miss the stars.”

But Crowley shook his head. “I can see my stars all the time, but when I think of the early days, I think of you. After all, I met you then.” Crowley gave him a fond smile, one reserved just for Aziraphale.

“Oh. Yes. Makes sense, I think,” he answered in a thoughtful voice.

“Angel,” Crowley sighed. “What is it?”

“I just thought… Have you ever regretted anything?” He stared into space, thinking about their shared history, their time apart.

“I… I regret many things.”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Aziraphale said and gently grasped his hand.

“But not you... Never you...” Crowley added and then smiled.

“We’re a good thing?”

“We’re a great thing,” he grinned. “But don’t tell my superiors. They won’t be as happy with me as you are.”

“Never, my dear, you have my word.”

“I’m counting on it,” Crowley winked. “And now, more sake?”

“If you insist.”

“Oh, I insist.”

“Well then… go for it.”

**1099 A.D., Toledo**

“Aziraphale, you are needed in Jerusalem. Immediately.”

There was something mysterious about how his colleagues always showed up behind his back as if they wanted to catch him by surprise.

“Oh hello, Michael, but where is Gabriel?” Aziraphale asked and tried to smile at them.

“He is already there,” said Michael and nodded at him curtly before disappearing into thin air.

“I see…”

“I don’t know if I’m able to return there, Crowley.”

Aziraphale had been pacing the room impatiently for a solid hour now, his lower lip was trembling. He clenched and unclenched his hands nervously at his sides. His eyes were glassy and a bit red around his scleras. He was so fed up of the human’s religious wars!

“Then don’t go,” said Crowley, refraining from catching and staying him for a moment. Pacing and circling were mostly Crowley’s area of behavior, but now it was as if they switched places.

“I have to. I was summoned. It was a direct order. And Gabriel is already there waiting for me.”

“Use some excuse. Say you are needed elsewhere and you are the only one who can do it.”

“I can see Him sometimes, you know,” Aziraphale said as if he didn’t even hear him. “The crucifixion… He was so fragile, he was so young…” 

“I’ll do it then,” said Crowley firmly and Aziraphale abruptly turned his head to him.

“What? No. You can’t!”

“_Your burden is mine_, you wrote, angel. Were they just empty words?” It was a plainly spoken question. An accusing question. A curious one. He could feel it from posture, from his voice, even if he couldn’t see it in his covered eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant it for you!” the angel shouted, and new tears appeared in his eyes.

“I know. I always knew. And now I mean it, too. Allow me to do it instead of you.”

“It’s too dangerous, Crowley. I can’t let you… What if Gabriel spots you there?”

Crowley shrugged. “I can always claim I was sent from my head office to make some trouble.”

“But what if he…”

“He won’t.”

“Please, Crowley, I…” Aziraphale closed his eyes and then gulped. When he opened them again, he could see new determination. “Together. Let’s go together.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. Yes. ...Yes, I am sure. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank you me, angel. You won’t thank me in Palestine.”

But Aziraphale only smiled at him and Crowley sighed.

Well… time to go. They were running out of time.

**1348 A.D., Florence**

Aziraphale had been looking for him for a month now, but it was that night he got a bit of luck. He found him just outside a deserted village looking into the flames of a bonfire. He was just a shadow of his older self. His clothes were torn, his hair was a mess, and his glasses were absent. So many deaths, so much suffering and one single demon from Hell stationed on Earth to witness it all.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Aziraphale closed the distance between them and stood by his side. Not touching. Not yet. “Of course I should. You frightened me. I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Angel, please, just… let me be this time.”

Aziraphale turned to him, trying to offer him some comfort with his words. “Come with me, my dear. Run with me anywhere you like. Marry me again.”

“Can’t!” the demon choked, his eyes empty and haunted. “I can’t, angel. I can’t bear it, you know? So much pain, so much…”

“Divorce me, then.”

“You are impossible! I am crying here from the deepest pit of my black soul and you…”

“Make love with me then,” Aziraphale breathed and Crowley froze.

“What?”

“Make love with me,” Aziraphale repeated as he reached to touch his hand.

Crowley just stared at him, still, breathing hard. “Angel, I…”

“Make it quick, make it slow, make it rough or tender, I don’t care. I’m offering you a day of love to ease your pain. Is it too much for you to cope?”

“No…” answered Crowley and then clasped Aziraphale’s hand with his trembling fingers and squeezed. “But I fear if I start now I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Then don’t.”

“Angel, you must understand what you are offering to me here!” His words sounded so broken. Aziraphale wanted nothing less than to catch him in his arms and never let him go.

“I understand it perfectly, my love. I offer it to you. Make love with me tonight, please.”

“Yes…”

And while they were hugging and kissing desperately, Aziraphale took them somewhere else. Somewhere far away from the deaths and destruction and sorrow. For tonight the Black Death had no place between them. 

**1434 A.D., France**

“Again? You were discorporated again? And in some Kingdom of Bohemia for fuck’s sake!”

“Crowley, please, there are people around us. They can hear you.”

“I don’t care, angel, really. You let yourself be discorporated in the Hussite Wars that no one outside that little country ever heard of?”

“It ended right this year, really, and you should see how the Catholic Church was against them. The priest and scholar Jan Hus was so human, his thoughts…”

“I don’t care, angel, I don’t really care. The only good thing is that you made it Up there quickly. Two years. The twats Above really outdid themselves this time.”

“You don’t have to be so rude, my dear. Nothing big happened. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Taborite fraction really didn’t mean to…”

“Nothing big? Angel, I swear, the next time you discorporate I’ll…”

They were close, they were so very close now, standing on the place where the future Nantes Cathedral would stand one day.

“Yes, my dear?” the angel prompted with a smile.

“Please don’t do it again,” Crowley said finally in a hushed voice. “Now I need to marry you again, and you know what stress it is for us.”

“Stress, really?” he asked, teasingly.

“Yes! All the dressing and hairdos and gift exchanging and celebrations and you know… wedding night… that kind of stress.”

“Oh, I see. You don’t want to go through it again.”

“Yes! That’s what I’m saying here. So much stress for such an unnecessary--”

“Crowley?”

“Yes?”

“You are babbling…”

**1514 A.D., Rome**

“Crowley, dear, is it really necessary? And in this kind of weather?“ It was cold and raining. He didn’t want to have his brand new trunk hose and matching doublet get dirty and wet. Miracling it all away all the time was just so annoying.

“Yes, angel, it is necessary. He leaves next month for France, and good paintings take time, as you certainly know.” 

“Alright but wouldn’t it be odd? Two strangers appearing in the middle of the night on his threshold to paint two man-shaped beings into matching portraits?”

“No need to worry, angel. He is an old friend of mine. I helped him with a little project a few years ago, and he owes me a favour.”

“Really? A harmless favour?”

“Yes, a harmless one. There was this strange woman Lisa del Giocondo that... never mind. Yes, a totally harmless one, nothing special that humans would remember throughout history. And also… if we both keep our own copy to ourselves it won’t even be suspicious. Humans make paintings of themselves with friends all the time, not only when they are married. Who wouldn’t want to have a portrait of himself these days?”

Aziraphale finally smiled and briefly touched his hand. “It would be nice to put them together again after some time.”

“Yes, it would be nice. But first we need to have them at all.”

When Crowley stopped in front of some ordinary-looking doors, he knocked before Aziraphale could question him again. After a while, a man’s head peeked out and the man frowned into the dark. “Yes?”

“Leonardo, remember? You owe me one. I’m here for you to fulfil your part.”

**1605 A.D., Strasbourg**

“Tell me again, angel, why did I need to go to bloody Germany in winter just to see a piece of paper?”

“But look, Crowley, just look! It’s our first wedding announcement and it’s printed in newspapers!”

“Let me see… Oh… _The marriage of Antonia Crowley and Mr. A. Ziraphale will take place in_… ‘Antonia’, really?”

“I thought…”

“Calm down, angel. I like it. It’s quite flattering, really.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He traced the printed flower frame of the announcement, his expression pensive.

“What is it, my dear? What are you thinking about?”

Crowley sighed, not saying anything.

“My dear? Don’t hide from me. Don’t cover your eyes from me now.”

Crowley sighed again but pushed his glasses into his hair.

“Well? What is it?” prompted the angel gently.

“It’s nothing, really, “ Crowley answered finally. “I just thought how amazing humans are. It seems like yesterday when Eve clothed herself in leaves, and now...”

Aziraphale offered him a new smile. They were on the same page in this. Humans really were remarkable.

“It’s lovely,” said Crowley, lifting his eyes and waving with the newspaper in the air. Love. There it was. Aziraphale could see it again. Those beautiful eyes were shining with love and shared joy. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course, my dear. I already have a copy of my own.”

**1793 A.D., Paris**

“... and now that we’ve had crepes and are quite sated we could…”

“No.”

“Oh, but, my dear, you can’t know what I--”

“No, angel, just no. I’m not marrying you during a bloody revolution. No.”

“But… but I was nearly killed in the Bastille!”

“And you were saved. You are very welcome.”

“But I thought… wouldn’t it mean…?”

“Don’t be melodramatic, angel,” he looked at him over his frames, those snake eyes mocking him. “Next time you change your name, I’ll marry you again.”

“Is it a promise?”

“Yes, it is a bloody promise.”

“Are you aware that this was the first ‘No’ I received in five thousand years?”

“Oh, I’m well aware. I’ve been there every time. It has been five thousand seven hundred and ninety six years, angel. Next time you show off at least get your counting right.”

“Of course, my dear, of course. Could we at least have some hot strawberries now?”

**1800 A.D., London**

“You did it on purpose!”

Crowley marched into the bookshop and the front door made quite a loud noise as it closed behind him.

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale lifted his eyes from an interesting volume he was reading and tried to focus on the demon through his reading glasses.

“You changed your name so I’ll have to marry you again.”

Aziraphale blinked. “I... what, my dear?”

“Changed your name on purpose!”

“Well, when you mention it… I can’t really recall doing it on purpose. Everything was so hectic with the moving and all, so I…”

Crowley turned his eyes, it was visible even behind his dark shades. “You are impossible.”

“You told me once,” Aziraphale smiled.

“Terrible too.”

“I haven’t heard that one though. My dear, if not to marry me, then why exactly are you here?”

“To celebrate the opening of your bookshop, of course… And to marry you.”

“We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to. I know there is no need for a new ceremony, my dear, but I enjoy it so much. If you prefer, today we could just spend some time together since you are already here, and maybe have a nice lunch or…”

“Oh, do shut up, angel. You have a new name. Of course I’ll marry you, but first I brought you chocolate and this little thing that’s calling itself a flower even though its behaviour is just un--”

He didn’t reach the end of his speech as Aziraphale beamed at him, shining with his inner angelic light, and then finally, finally took the beautiful red rose and the box of chocolates from his hands, kissing him gently. No other words were necessary at that moment.

THE END OF PART II

Portraits of Aziraphale and Crowley made by Leonardo da Vinci

(Source: <https://thegoodomensdumpster.tumblr.com/post/187194761327/fuckyeahgoodomens-part-2-of-the-ineffable>)


	3. PART III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ineffable marriages and the 20th century. Now complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was again beta-read by amazing Nieded. Thank you again.

**PART III**

**1888 A.D., London**

“Let’s have a honeymoon.”

They dined at Wiltons Restaurant where Aziraphale had just finished his second dessert.

“Oh, you mean like…”

“Yes! You and me, a month or two somewhere else together.”

Aziraphale frowned and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “But Crowley, I don’t think… I don’t think it’s safe for us to be together for so long in the same place. The headquarters…”

“That’s why you have me, you know? I have a brilliant idea!” Crowley vibrated with excitement, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile.

“Truly? Would you like to share?”

“We could take a ride on the new Orient Express from Paris to Constantinople. Every day in a new place, never somewhere for too long. Dinners just for us. Beautiful views. Charming compartment and even better company. What do you think?”

“I think I’d like it very much.”

“Great. Great!” Crowley drummed to the table desk and then quickly jumped to stand. “Let’s leave tomorrow.”

“What?” Aziraphale gaped. “Bu-but, dear boy, there are so many things to do, so much to prepare before we… What about your plants?”

“They will be fine, angel. So tomorrow, be prepared. I’ll meet you at ten.”

And that was it. Their first honeymoon. Looking back Aziraphale found out it was the longest time they shared together in nearly six thousand years. It was time very well spent.

**1919 A.D., London**

That day Aziraphale had a feeling he was needed in Brompton Cemetery. It was an unpleasant, chilly morning for a walk, but he went despite it. He found Crowley near the central Chapter looking at the newest graves.

Aziraphale closed the distance between them, and then not to frighten him, spoke in a quiet voice. “What is it, my dear?”

Crowley looked as if he hadn’t slept for decades, and maybe he hadn’t. They had both been very busy.

“I received a commendation, angel, for starting the bloody Great War.”

He sounded wretched. He sounded as if he hadn’t even spoken for a while. Or to the contrary as if he’d spoken far too much.

“Oh, but…”

“I received a commendation for burning the library of Alexandria and I said nothing. I received a commendation for Spanish Inquisition and said nothing. I received a…”

“But, my dear,” said Aziraphale kindly, “it’s been four years now. Isn’t it a little late for such a…”

Crowley laughed hysterically. “There is a custom in Hell. Never give a recommendation before the work has been successfully done.”

“I see...”

Crowley gulped visibly and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. “Sometimes I can’t bear it, angel. I can’t bear what I’d done to them…”

“And what was it exactly?”

“The first sin. Learning the difference between good and bad. Bloody _free will_.”

“Ah, but where would they be without it, my dear? They would have been displayed like dolls in some celestial museum. Always perfect, always smiling, but without a purpose, without a goal to live for. I think, my dear, that back then you gave them a wonderful gift that should be treasured and celebrated. And while they had you then, I have you now.”

Aziraphale hugged him because Crowley let himself be hugged, and Crowley sobbed into his shoulder for a long time. At that moment there was nothing more to be done. 

**1926 A.D., London**

“Angel! Angel, where are you?”

The cheerful shouting could be heard from two blocks away, but Crowley sounded so keen that the angel didn’t have the heart to stop him.

“Coming, my dear!”

When he spotted him, Crowley was nearly bursting with energy.

“Angel, come with me for a newly-wed ride!”

“I… what?”

“I bought an automobile. It’s parked just right here. You must see it. Come, come!”

Aziraphale frowned and carefully put the book he held down. “What is wrong with the train? Or horses and carriages?”

Crowley swept his hand dismissively. “Trains are just for public transportation. And horses? Remember the last time you sat horseback?”

“You are right, hellish creatures,” Aziraphale murmured and Crowley smirked at him.

“Exactly!”

“But… carriages…”

“Forget carriages, we have a car now!” he exclaimed and opened the front door for Aziraphale to see. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s very… black?”

“Yes, angel, of course it’s black.”

“It is… elegant? Quite flashy too.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You’re not a car person. Now get in.”

Aziraphale blinked. “I don’t think…”

“Nonsense. Get in, angel. At least try the seat. You’ll like it!”

The ride was horrible. Crowley drove fanatically, and all the turns made Aziraphale nauseous! Crowley was like the devil himself behind the wheel, and with his shades firmly on his nose he even looked like one. But he enjoyed himself so much that Aziraphale tried to stifle his screams.

“Did you really need to drive at sixty miles per hour? I was nearly discorporated!”

“I was nowhere near the sixty miles, angel. This is a brand new automobile. One must use it for a while before speeding really high. You’ll be fine, angel, and the Bentley is just magnificent.” He patted the car lovingly on the roof and then looked around.

“Maybe I could get used to it,” Aziraphale remarked and then turned from the car too.

They were high on a hill, a grassy shore with a view of the open sea. He glanced down. There were sand beaches under the white cliffs. It was beautiful and peaceful here.

“What is this place anyway? I don’t recall visiting it.”

“It’s the southern coast - South Downs.”

“It feels nice, and the view is really breathtaking.”

Crowley watched their surroundings with a fond smile. He even pocketed his glasses and stayed with his eyes uncovered, at ease. “One day, I wish I could live here for a while…” he said.

“Truly?”

“Would you…?” Crowley asked, not meeting his eyes. “Would you like to join me? Just a cottage, the Bentley, some books, you and me?”

“How many books?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“As many as you want.”

“Yes…” Aziraphale answered, “I’d like that very much.”

Crowley glanced around once more and then turned to him with a smirk. “Never tried that tradition, living together, did we?”

“Well then…” said Aziraphale and took his hand, “we have still something to look forward to, don’t you think?”

**1941 A.D., London**

Aziraphale was in trouble. Oh, he was in such trouble! The war. The church. The books of prophecies and the Nazis. Thinking back, he had obviously made a mistake.

“You can’t kill me! There will be paperwork! And you can’t possibly imagine how slow my superiors can be!”

Despite his speech, the Nazis were still going to shoot him where he stood. It was a grave situation. But then…

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow-ow-ow-ow! Ow!”

Aziraphale turned and spotted Crowley jumping from leg to leg down the aisle towards him. Everyone in the church stared at the new figure in the building.

“Sorry! Ow! Consecrated ground! It’s like being at the beach in bare feet,” panted Crowley. Aziraphale finally recovered from his hypnotized condition. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Obviously, stopping you getting into trouble. Ow!”

The Nazis awakened as well. “You must be the mysterious Anthony J. Crowley,” said Mr. Glozier. “Your fame precedes you.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” answered Crowley and gave him a salute with his hat.

“Anthony?” Aziraphale asked. “You kept it?”

“Pff, sounded good enough. Ow!”

“And the J? What does it stand for?”

“Uh, ‘s just a J, really. Needed a third name for these humans. Ow-ow-ow-ow! Ow!” Crowley seemed undisturbed. He looked quite funny with all his jumping from leg to leg. If pain wasn’t involved, Aziraphale would have laughed, but instead he lost his temper.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Crowley. I can’t look at this,” he said and then took him in his arms - bridal style.

“Urgh, angel, what are you--!” Crowley tried to free himself but Aziraphale was quite insistent.

“Don’t fidget. I’m saving you here, you idiot!” he yelled at him.

“Well, I’m trying to save you!”

They stared at each other, no one wanted to stand down.

“Gentlemen, if you could…” said Mr. Harmony and smiled sweetly at them. “We don’t have all day and you are both already quite irritating.”

“Well,” Crowley pulled together first and grinned at them from the high ground of Aziraphale’s arms. “You are right on that front. You don’t have all day. You don’t even have a minute. But if you all run away very very quickly, you might not die when the German bomber releases a bomb on this church.”

That was something Aziraphale hadn’t expected, but he should have known better. After all, Crowley wasn’t a demon for nothing.

“And you expect us to believe that? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End,” sneered Mr. Glozier.

“Well,” continued Crowley nonchalantly, “it would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course, yes. You are wasting all your valuable running-away time. But if, in thirty seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my husband and I to survive it.”

“Uh… a real miracle,” Aziraphale gulped, understanding perfectly but instead thinking about how Crowley used the words ‘my husband.’

“Kill them!” exclaimed Mr. Harmony and he might have wanted to add something but at that moment they all heard it - the unmistakable whistling sound of the bomb falling.

After the explosion there was nothing left, only the ruins of a former church. Just a burning altar and Aziraphale with Crowley were intact. The Nazis were dead.

The time stretched while the dust settled, and Aziraphale could only stare.

And then he said it again. “Marry me.”

Crowley laughed while wiping his shades. “What?”

“We’ve never been wed in a church before.”

“Yes, and for obvious reasons,” Crowley sneered.

Aziraphale looked around, the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. “I already carried you in front of the altar.”

“Shouldn’t it occur _after_ the wedding and not before?”

“Semantics. Crowley, please, stop time and marry me now. Here.”

Crowley shook his head in disbelief. “You are asking me to stop time and marry you in a destroyed church in the middle of the bloody Blitz?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale breathed, hopeful.

“Damn it. Fine!” said Crowley, and he put his glasses on again.

“Yes then? You have a new name too so we need to renew our vows...”

“I already said yes, angel. What more do you want?”

“Well…” he smiled, “when you are asking so kindly… obviously _you_.” 

**2008 A.D., Soho**

After WWII everything went a little bit too fast for Aziraphale. Up until then he kept pace with the humans, but now he felt behind. He was made for romanticism, for pleasant walks in parks with tender gentlemen and ladies smiling shyly. After the Second World War, everything sped up. People rushed from place to place, always in a hurry. He never understood industrialism and its hunger for more.

He hadn’t seen much of Crowley. He’d heard of him of course, about the _great A. J. Crowley_. After all, they both lived and worked in London, but he missed him now more than ever and felt quite unsettled. It was as if something big was coming, something bad. The end of the century left Aziraphale no time to breathe.

His hands were still shaking.

_Armageddon._ The end of the world only years away.

Distracted, he sliced his hands on the edge of his wine glass while pouring wine. His blood dripped from his fingers. He stared at the droplets, numb.

Then Crowley appeared behind his back, a calming comforting presence. “Let me see.”

Aziraphale gulped. “I don’t think that’s nece-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Now show me.” His voice was insistent but gentle, and Aziraphale extended his hand, mortified.

Fortunately it was not as bad as it seemed. What was one clean cut from a long shard for an angel, right? Crowley cleaned the wound and then blew on it. The pain disappeared.

Still touching him Aziraphale tried to clench his hand. It was jolly good. Still he couldn’t force himself to drop his hand and step away.

“Thank you,” he said instead.

“Don’t mention it.”

Aziraphale lifted his head and smiled sadly.

“My dear, are you sure it will work? He is still the antichrist…”

“Sure enough, angel. He is a child and it’s the powers and influences that are important. The powers,” he pointed at Aziraphale, “and the influences,” he pointed at himself. “Or vice versa. Whatever. Just tell him about the beauties of the world and you’ll be fine.”

“What are you going to talk to him about, my dear?”

“Oh, about this and that. How I tempted a certain angel for a start.”

Aziraphale smiled when the old memories flooded him. He still had the first lock of Crowley’s hair. “You mean, how a certain angel tempted you?”

“I was an angel then…”

“Yes, you were.”

“And when I was a demon I tempted you.”

“And then I you.”

“And then…”

Aziraphale put his hand on his face and brushed the sharp angle of his jaw. “My dear, are we really going to argue about this?”

“I don’t know, angel,” Crowley smirked. “Are we?”

“Well, I would think there are better things to do…”

“There are?”

“Yes…”

“In that case, angel, I’m all yours then.”

“That you are, indeed.”

**2009 A.D., Dowling residence**

They stood at the black front door to the residence, the doorbell had been already pressed. When the butler opened the door he looked a little surprised to see them there, but he didn’t know it was his lucky day.

“I understand you need a nanny and a gardener,” said Crowley persuasively. He wore his black dress with a matching hat and his dark glasses firmly in place. Aziraphale on the other hand wore… well… something like what gardener should wear. “We are a married couple who will do both.”

The butler lifted his eyebrow. “This is your husband, madam?”

Aziraphale really couldn’t understand what was so unbelievable, but Crowley frowned at him (for the fifth time that day) so there was nothing to be said. Still, he would need to do something against such impolite behaviour. There would be time for it later.

“Yes. He can be quite extravagant, I know.” Crowley faked a smile. “But he is really good with flowers.”

“Yes, flowers love me,” Aziraphale beamed.

“Yes, they bloody love you,” Crowley gritted out.

And that was it. They were in. And for once - really together.

**2014 A.D., London**

“Angel, marry me this month. Marry me this week. Marry me today!”

Warlock was six now. Aziraphale spent his free Sunday, as he had every Sunday, in the bookshop. He wasn’t expecting visitors. He wasn’t even expecting Crowley because the Dowlings were away on business with their son, and Crowley had chosen to spend the extra time napping, so it was a surprise.

“Crowley? Why-what happened? Is it Warlock? Is something wrong?”

“What? No! Everything is, as you’d say, tip-top.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“OK, fine, everything is fine. Well, more than fine.” He beamed. He looked exactly as he would out of nanny mode, with his dark glasses and black clothes, a short jacket, vest and those madly slim trousers. Aziraphale hadn’t seen him like that for quite some time now.

“What do you mean?”

“Humans finally don’t care.” Crowley outstretched his arms. “We can marry here. Like this. Just like we are now. Like we have lived for years.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I don’t understand. They don’t care about what exactly?”

“Gender, angel,” answered Crowley as if he was talking to a small child. “From this day, same sex marriages are allowed in the United Kingdom. A few years before the end of the world and they finally get rid of their prejudice. Angel, please,” said Crowley nearly pleading but still with _that_ smile before he took his hand and knelt in front of his chair. “Will you marry me one more time?”

“You never did this before. You never knelt,” Aziraphale whispered, touched.

“Yes, I know. Another tradition satisfied. So…?”

And what could Aziraphale say to the kneeling man but ‘yes’, really?

**2019 A.D., Lower Tadfield**

In the end, it wasn’t their destiny to stop the apocalypse. It wasn’t even in their powers to do so. It rested on the shoulders of humans as it always had.

But they could change something. They could change their own destiny now. Six thousand years of their secret life. Six thousand years of longing. Six thousand years of stolen moments together. Six thousand years of love that bonded them through and through.

Aziraphale was the first one who recovered on the airbase when Satan was gone for good.

“We did it?” he asked in awe.

“We did it, angel,” confirmed Crowley and finally touched his hand.

“But what are we going to do now? Our headquarters...”

“For a start, forget them, angel. They’re not ours, not anymore. You’ve never been made for Heaven as I’ve never been made for Hell.”

“Bu- uhm… Maybe you are right. I don’t really think they will be pleased to see us now. Still the question stands, what are we going to do now?”

“What do you think? We are going to have a wedding of course. There are so many things we haven’t tried. For example - I’ve never thrown a bouquet. And I want to.”

“Oh… _oh!_ Of course you should want to, my dear!” Aziraphale smiled at him and then looked at the others as well. “Well then, if you’ll excuse us, ladies and gentlemen, there is a miraculously freed wedding ceremony waiting for us just around the corner.”

With that, Crowley pulled them away to find some transport.

Everyone stayed silent, as if some invisible force kept them from speaking. Then Pepper said “Am I the only one who assumed those weirdos were already married? They definitely bickered like some old marrieds.”

**2019 A.D., Heaven and Hell**

They were summoned two days after the apocalypse-that-had-not-happened to their bosses in Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale to Gabriel and Crowley directly to Beelzebub. They promised to do everything in their powers to return back to Earth, and as they knew well after all those years, some promises could be kept.

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale, I thought better of you. You were one of our best!” said Gabriel. Aziraphale shook his head.

“You never thought about me as one of your best, Gabriel. You thought I was the strange one, the cute one who loves humanity and Earth far too much.”

“But you belong to Heaven! You are ours!”

“I wasn’t yours for a very long time. I wasn’t yours then, and I am not yours now. I belong to someone entirely else.”

“_The demon_. You can’t be serious. You are one of the Almighty’s creations!”

“As is he.”

“You know I can’t let you go. Not like this. Not for him.”

“Oh, I think you can and you will. After all, Gabriel, after everything that happened and that I’ve done, in God’s eyes I am still an angel. Would you go against God’s word?”

“Here are you. Crowley. The traitooor!” sneered Beelzebub in Hell.

“In fact, Lord, if I may, I think I should get a commendation.”

“You? And what for?”

“For a successful temptation of an angel.”

“Don’t mezz with me, Crowley. You never reported zzzuch a thing.”

“It was one of the ongoing projects of mine, Lord. One more day, and I will have him fully in my grasp.”

Beelzebub surprisingly considered it. “And then what?”

“He will never bother you again.”

“Are you talking about your adversary on Earth, the Principality Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“Oh, I want nothing, Lord, save one thing. It took me six thousand years to catch him. I admit he is quite good at his work so he will need to be distracted all the time not to cause us more trouble. I can secure it. I only need to be freed from my other obligations.”

Belzebub frowned. “Thizzz izzz too big of a game even for you, Crowley. What you are propozzzing izzz ridiculouzzz.”

“Oh, Lord, but you could only win in this deal. No more constant influence from Heaven on Earth. Gabriel will be pissed, and after he recovers - which could take years - he’ll need to place a new agent there, and we all know how the Heavenly office works. It won't do anyone good. It will take decades, maybe centuries, before the new angel will be familiar enough with Earth to do some proper good as the one before him. Think about the territory you will obtain in the meantime, Lord… Just think.”

Beelzebub frowned. “Fine. Have your angel then. But I don’t want to zzzee you again. Not ever.”

“It was my pleasure to make a deal with you, Lord.”

“Out with you!”

**2020 A.D., South Downs**

It was a nice day. Every day was nice in these after-the-not-end days. Heaven and Hell didn't want anything to do with them, and Aziraphale and Crowley could finally live their lives, together.

“Another bite, my dear?”

“Is it the wedding cake?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Isn’t it strange it endured this long? We had the last ceremony two months ago!”

“Uh, it sounds like a miracle then.”

“Really, angel? For a wedding cake?”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but it’s really good.”

“Let me be the judge of that. I can’t quite remember how it tasted.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, some other thing stole my breath away that day…”

“Oh… well… in that case - here.”

“Mmm, yes, you were right. The best wedding cake ever. Tastes divine.”

“Our first, you know?”

“Really? We didn’t have one before…?”

“No. I’m sure I would remember.”

“Well then, come on, angel, share more!”

“As always, my dear.”

Over the years, many weddings occurred in that strange cottage with the botanical garden which bloomed across all seasons and the huge library filled with old books and well-preserved scrolls. An ancient-looking marriage contract hung in a bright spot just above two matching portraits of what must have been their ancestors, which looked as if they had been painted by Leonardo da Vinci himself. The villagers were never quite sure how many weddings there were. After all, these two seemed like newly weds all the time.

_And so they were marrying happily until the end of their days…_

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I played with the book!verse and the Tv!verse. I love them both very much, but I changed quite a lot of things (e.g. bodyswap, holy water and many more). I thought the story needed it. I wasn’t prepared to copy the replicas from the Tv series too because I don’t like it myself when I’m reading stories. I did it twice though, I hope you’ll forgive me.  
One more thing for those who know history and anthropology or similar branches of knowledge, I know what marriages were/are about - power, influences, alliances, money and children. Well, I can’t imagine how anything from that list could be important for Aziraphale or Crowley, so I didn’t include it.  
If you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it, please consider leaving a comment. It will please me very much.


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